Journal Entry of Tabris Almasy
by ShadowWolf Forsythe
Summary: Originally written as a monolouge to be preformed in front of an audience, this story focuses around a pilot of the first Homeworld War.


JOURNAL ENTRY/ALMASY, TABRIS.  
  
My name is Tabris Almasy. Lt. Junior Grade, Wraith Squadron, Identification number 335496-53Alpha. I serve under the Mothership's 3rd fleet, stationed within the Kushan Carrier CAAL-SET, pilot of a Scout class fighter of the Kushan origin.  
  
I am from a world no longer there; a memory of a place once called Kharak, my home world. A place destroyed by an unforgivable enemy that continues to threaten me and my people.  
  
I remember so vividly how it all started, remember signing up and graduating from the flight academy with honors then being assigned to fly protection for the Mothership's orbital scaffold while the Mothership tested it's Hyperdrive on its maiden voyage out of the system using a newly constructed Hyperspace Core combined with the Mothership's living core. Karen S'jet; some on Kharak call her "The Savior" as it was she who personally undertook the task of integrating herself into the Mothership's primary systems, thus becoming Fleet Command and the core essence of the Mothership.  
  
The plan was to have the Mothership hyperspace to a waypoint and meet a smaller vessel named the Khar-Salim, which had spent the last decade traveling out of system to a pre-determined rendezvous point in a vast asteroid field. The Mothership was then to get any repairs needed and then jump back with the Khar-Salim's crew so it could be loaded with the Cryo- trays containing 600,000 of our planet's people. Afterward it would then start its long journey among the stars to find us another planet to colonize, a new home.  
  
It went wrong.  
  
Approximately 75 minutes after the Mothership hyperspaced out of system, 'they' came. Dozens of oddly painted capital ships dropped out of hyperspace above the scaffold and attacked us with an unrelenting ruthlessness, launching hundreds of various fighter craft from their carriers and opening fire on the scaffold with their destroyers, frigates and corvettes.  
  
The cries of death that echoed through the com-channel. the sounds of my friends and comrades dying one after another. I even vaguely recall someone reciting a prayer that the Mothership and her escort would be back soon, that they would arrive in the midst of the attack and help us fend off these intruders. but they never came.  
  
It was seventeen minutes into the battle when the enemy played their trump card.  
  
I remember looking out my window, disbelief ringing in my ears as the enemy commander issued the order for an immediate orbital bombardment on an open channel. seeing Kharak being engulfed in nuclear fire. watching my home world burn and die.  
  
Tears flowing down my cheeks, straining to fight the scream of pain that was threatening to rise up from the depths of my soul and claim me; I was so blinded by rage, by hate, by loathing, that I failed to see the stray missile coming up on my port side until it was too late.  
  
***  
  
I woke up hours later in one of the Mothership's infirmaries, vaguely recalling the nurse telling me I was lucky to be alive. Apparently, the missile that hit me had lodged itself into the chassis of my fighter and detonated mere seconds after my emergency ejection system activated. I was apparently near frozen before the Salvage Corvettes found me and brought me on board the Mothership for rehabilitation. Shortly after my revival I noticed the screams of pain echoing from somewhere down the corridor outside the infirmary from a captain that we'd somehow, by some miracle, managed to capture from one of the enemies' capital ships that was left behind to finish off our remaining forces.  
  
I caught word from a pilot that was being treated in the bed next to mine that before he, the enemy captain, died due to the wounds received by my own commanding officer he let slip that he was part of the Taiidani, a tyrannical empire bent on ruling the galaxy with fear and oppression. Now, the commander has declared war against the Taiidan and their servants bound by fate, the Turanic Raiders; a vile pirate group who destroyed the Khar- Salim and alerted the Taiidan of our apparent violation of a 4,000 year old treaty which prohibited us from developing space travel. The result was the complete and utter destruction of our planet and its inhabitants.  
  
But now, with an ancient star map left by our ancestors as our guide, we run. though not away, but forward, toward our goal.. We will encounter many times of hardship, there will be many losses among our fleet's numbers, but eventually we reach our goal. The Taiidan capital world, Hiigara, our people's original point of origin. Our new home. 


End file.
